


Fragments

by etcetera_cat



Category: Wilby Wonderful
Genre: Community: ds_snippets, Implied Character Death, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-03
Updated: 2010-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-09 21:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etcetera_cat/pseuds/etcetera_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan, on the edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragments

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/profile)[**slidellra**](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/) for the speedy beta work and the unpicking of a few descriptive knots.  
> Written for the rapid fire challenge, and the prompt of 'fragment'.

  
**Eleven days ago.**  
Shadows and moonlight. The wind in the trees, twined around the muted rush of waves on the pebbled beach. Hitched and labored breathing in the dark.

Flashes of red and blue and white light, mosaic patterns through the branches and leaves. Sirens, loud and implacable and cutting through the air like daggers. Shouted commands: harsh, unforgiving.

**Nine days ago.**  
An envelope. Heavy with portent and somewhat worn at the edges, victim of the vagaries of the postal system. The address is printed on a label (even the font seems like a silent accusation) and the postmark is smudged illegible.

(Inside) _An irreconcilable break down of the marriage, precipitated in main by—_

**Eleven hours, fourteen minutes ago.**  
Water burbling over rocks, combing trailing water weed into undulating sheets of emerald green. The supports of the bridge, sun warmed, strong and surprisingly slippery.

The sound of tires skidding on gravel.

**Five hours, fifty two minutes ago.**  
Pebbles rough and pebbles smooth. Some with a faint fuzz of dried algae, some smooth and worn and veined with quartz. Cumulatively they are heavy.

Waves. This time a sight and sound experience, peaceful.

Voices.

**One hour, one minute ago.**  
Embarrassment-that's-not, to the soundtrack of a tinny radio. Quiet, uncertain words and the soft touch of skin to skin.

**Fifty nine seconds ago.**  
The hissing scratch of rope, pulled tight and tied around the beam. Faint, protesting creaks from the chair. A few deep breaths, unnaturally loud.

A remembered touch.

**Now.**  
A crack, a snap and a biting jerk up short.

A counterpoint dance of pain and oxygen deprivation.

A sense of regret, and then nothing much else at all.


End file.
